


Dirty Little Secret

by weekendoffender



Category: Football RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-25
Updated: 2010-10-25
Packaged: 2017-10-12 21:34:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/129309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weekendoffender/pseuds/weekendoffender
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's over.  Cris can't handle being Kaká's dirty little secret any longer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dirty Little Secret

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: This was written for the prompt "dirty little secret" at the LJ community ALLDAYFOOTIECP. Oh, and this isn't beta'd so I apologise for any spelling or grammar mistakes.

"I'm done, I'm finished. It's over Ricky."

"What are you talking about Cris? Come on, come back to bed, we've still got 40 minutes."

Cris stared down at his lover. He wanted nothing more than to jump back into bed and wrap himself up in Ricardo. But he couldn't, not anymore. This 'thing' between them was too much, too intense for him to bear alone. And he knew he'd have to because Ricky would never help him carry the weight of it when he also had God and his wife. He knew he didn't stand a chance against those two.

"We're finished Ricky, I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry but that's it. I'm sorry." Cris lowered his head, not wanting Kaká to see the tears threatening to slip from his eyes, and started gathering up his clothes.

Cris heard Ricky sit up in bed, could feel his eyes burning into his back. Could hear him clear his throat and start to talk.

"What... I, I don't understand Cris. Cristiano? You're leaving me?"

"Yes."

"But why? What did I do? I thought... you love me don't you? That's what you said only half an hour ago!"

"I know."

"So you were lying? You don't love me?!"

"I'M FUCKING _IN_ LOVE WITH YOU RICARDO! I'M SO FUCKING IN LOVE WITH YOU AND THAT'S WHY I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE!" Cris screamed as Kaká finally got out of bed, slipping on a pair of jeans. Kaká just stood there staring at Cris dumbfounded. Cris could see his hands itching, could see he wanted to wipe the tears now falling freely from Cris's face. And when he tried to, when Cris stepped out of reach of those hands, the hurt that flashed across Ricky's face broke Cris's heart just a little bit more.

"You're leaving me because you're in love with me? That's... that's... but I love you too Cris! I don't get what's going on here."

Cris sank down, sitting on the edge of the bed. He suddenly felt exhausted, drained and like he just wanted to fall asleep and never wake up. He looked up and Kaká was still watching him, confusion and pain written clearly across his face. Cris wanted to get up and walk out, wanted to run for his life but he knew he couldn't. He owed more to his lover... ex-lover... his Kaká. So he explained it all.

"I'm in love with you Ricky and you're not in love with me. You love me, yes, but you're in love with your wife. I love you so damn much that I can't do this anymore. It's not enough, it never will be. I'm just your distraction, your thing on the side."

"What? Cris, Cris please how could you ever think that?" Cris felt more tears slide down his cheeks as Ricky knelt down in front of him, taking his hands in his own.

"I'm just your dirty little secret Ricky. It's all I have been and it's all I'll ever be and I need more. I'm sorry, it's selfish, but I need more. I want more."

"There's nothing else I can give Cris! What more do you want?"

Cris looked down at Kaká, looked at his hands resting in much bigger ones, felt his heart constrict in his chest. It hurt, every part of his mind and body ached like it never had before. He could feel himself falling again, slowly easing towards those warm hands and that hard, comforting chest and he was close, so so close and Ricky was about to kiss him again and "NO!" he yelled as he yanked his hands from Kaká's and backed himself into the corner of the room.

"What do I want? I want you Ricky!" he cried, putting his hand up to stop Kaká from interrupting. "I want you, I want us. I want to fall asleep with you at night and wake up with you in the morning. I want to move in with you and I want to redecorate while you scoff at my choice of cushion fabric. I want to make shopping lists together and argue over what type of rice to buy. I want you to take me out to dinner for our anniversary and I want to you propose by getting down on one knee. I want a silver band with our names inscribed on the inside. I want a wedding with all of our friends and family. I want lazy summer afternoons in bed. I want Junior to call you daddy and I want us to give him a little brother or sister. I want to spend my weekends watching _our_ kids run around the backyard with a football. I want to retire in Portugal or Brazil, but not until we spend months arguing over it first. I want us to be at our kids weddings, to walk our daughter down the isle. I want to grow old and grey with you. And I want to leave this world knowing that I've spent my life with you. And that's what I want Ricky. That's every damn thing I want."

Cris took a few seconds to calm down, his heart beating like he'd just run a marathon. He looked over to Ricky, expecting him to be disgusted or angry. But Kaká was just standing there, eyes red and puffy, face covered in tears.

"I'm sorry Cris... I'm sorry."

And Cris knew. He always had. So he kissed Ricky on the cheek and, without saying anything more, quietly slipped out of the room and out of Ricardo's heart.


End file.
